Phantom Frost

Home > Other > Phantom Frost > Page 16
Phantom Frost Page 16

by Alfred Wurr


  “How’d the fire start?”

  “Not sure,” Brad replied. “There was a crash, I think; like someone threw a rock through a window. Then the smoke alarm started going off.”

  “What was that thing?” Lucy said, looking over my shoulder.

  “Don’t worry about it right now. I’ve got to make sure Wilhelm is all right. Stay here. I’ll be back.”

  I entered the garage through the open door and crossed the concrete floor. As I ran up the stairs to the interior door, I heard shouts from within but couldn’t make out the words. I opened the inner door to enter the house and threw an arm in front of my face as flames blew from within like dragon’s breath. I stumbled back and fell down the stairs onto the concrete next to Wilhelm’s Trans Am. The rush of air from within blew the door shut with a bang, locking the hungry fire inside for now.

  Picking myself up off the ground, I ran out the big door and around the side, giving the thumbs-up to my friends.

  No problem, dudes. I’ve got this under control, I thought, but I pushed down a wave of anxiety at the thought that Wilhelm and Bear might still be inside. I just hope they’re escaping through the back.

  I hopped the fence at the side of the house and raced to its rear. A few more steps and I’d enter through the patio doors and get to them or, even better, I’d find them safe in the backyard.

  I skidded to a stop as I rounded the corner and stared, wrinkling my brow as I took in the scene. Standing in the middle of the pool, thirty feet away, was a large oak tree where no oak tree had been earlier in the day. Several fire elementals surrounded it, arrayed throughout the backyard, as the tree skimmed huge branches against the surface of the water and sent great waves cascading over its nearest foes, snuffing out their light. Already several of them lay smouldering on the ground at the pool’s edge. Between me and the melee, the Californians’ canvas tents burned in the wind, their flame-resistant material no match for the fireballs that must have rained down on them before I arrived.

  As I crept along the back of the house to the patio doors, a fresh tidal wave took out three more adversaries on the tree’s left with a single swipe. This had the added effect of dousing a few of the other, non-ambulatory trees in the Schmidts’ backyard—those not wading in the pool, battling fire elementals—having, I imagined, been set alight by stray fireballs.

  The surviving vanguard counter-attacked, lighting up the yard with streamers of fire, striking the tree’s trunk in several places. Bellowing, the oak dunked itself under the water before coming up to splash another wave to the right. Too far to present an immediate threat, though moving this direction, more could be seen beyond the perimeter fence out on the uneven desert plain that led up to the squat hills of Red Rock Canyon.

  I approached the patio doors from the side—ducking as a fireball crashed into the wall of the house above my head—and noticed that they were broken on the right side. Smoke billowed out through the opening.

  When I was ten feet from the doorway, the unbroken glass on the left side shattered as a massive ball of flame careened through it from the inside, accompanied by a blast of searing wind. I hugged the wall reflexively.

  The ball of fire—another fire elemental, I realized—skipped off the ground and into the pool. The water hissed angrily, and steam rose from its surface as the monster sank to the bottom like a stone, its flames snuffed.

  Seconds later, as I began to move again, an armoured figure emerged from the blazing home. Translucent green and eight feet tall, the ethereal ghost glided over the ground on flows of air to join the oak tree, as I stared in awe.

  Shaking off my astonishment, I moved cautiously forward to the now wide-open back entrance, stepping on shattered glass.

  Oh, man, that’s too hot, I thought, shrinking back.

  The interior was ablaze. Even at this distance, I could feel my face starting to dissolve like an ice cube on a hot griddle. I wouldn’t make it ten feet into that firestorm, even if I weren’t made of ice and snow.

  No one could survive that, I reluctantly concluded.

  “Wilhelm!” I shouted into the flames, hoping against reason that he might answer. I heard no reply, so I called again.

  Seeing and hearing no signs of life, I ran along the wall to the rec room where Wilhelm had entertained us when we’d first arrived. The large windows were shattered, and fire and more smoke spewed out through the window. Sudden motion within caught my attention. Bear, the Alaskan shepherd, his fur on fire, ran from the room as I looked on in horror.

  I grabbed the windowsill, intending to enter, but the hot wood burned my hand. I shouted until my throat grew sore as huge flames climbed the walls and dark smoke moved across the ceiling. “No, no, no, no,” I muttered, throwing frost balls into the blaze. They hit the walls and furniture but quickly vaporized, and the fire continued to burn undiminished.

  “No,” I said softly one last time, backing away as the fire intensified.

  I was too late. The hell the canvasser had threatened Wilhelm with the day before had come to claim him and his dog, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

  Chapter 16

  That Poor Dude

  I turned west to face the elementals and reached for the Underfrost. The battle behind me still raged as more elementals arrived from the desert to fill the void left by the fallen ones. As they approached, their flames guttered and flashed, brushed by a gale force wind that rose up from the north. The armoured figure floated out to meet them, surrounded by a protective nimbus of greenish light that shimmered and flared as fireballs crashed against it.

  The air reeked of black smoke, suffused with fire and steam rising from the downed fire elementals, making it hard to catch more than glimpses of iridescent green as the figure moved away. The newcomer’s eyes gleamed emerald green, stabbing through the smoke and darkness like laser beams as it turned back and beckoned me forward. Then, with a wave of its hands, a blast of wind blew the smoke away like a stage curtain being thrust to one side. Gliding forward, the spectre pointed its fingers at the enemy. Wherever it pointed, lightning crashed from the cloudless sky, striking fire elementals and cascading to others nearby, sending them to the earth, where they lay unmoving.

  I ran to the pool’s edge and tossed a torrent of frost at the nearest fire elemental. It fell quickly, and I moved on to the next. Elemental after elemental fell before me. I took a few fireballs to the body; they hurt, but I brushed them aside before they could burn through my jacket, patting out the flames and continuing my attack. For each one I dropped, another appeared to replace it. I couldn’t take them down fast enough. I needed to do more.

  Desperate, I remembered wrestling with the big casino guard from the night before, when I’d done something to make it snow. I’d thinned the distance between the Underfrost and this world, somehow creating a rift through which the former could rush across, guided by my will.

  As I focused on that desire, snow began to fall, mixing with the wind, becoming a blizzard. All around me, elementals flickered and waned as the nascent storm needled them with countless snowflakes, misting the air as they melted.

  “Shivurr,” shrieked a voice, barely audible in the thunder of battle.

  I looked to my right, irrationally hoping that I’d see Wilhelm with Bear at his side. Instead, Alan, his long hair blowing wildly in the wind, stood at the corner of the house looking at the carnage, mouth wide and eyes bulging. Seeing another friend in danger pulled the plug on the bathtub full of rage that until then had consumed all other considerations.

  Alan darted from cover, hunched over double, heading toward me. He kept his eyes fixed on me, as if refusing to acknowledge the events occurring around him. Driven snow swirled in the fierce wind that seemed to come from all directions, and he held up his arm to shield his face against its sting. He flinched as the wading oak tree swept its limbs in another powerful sweep that knocked another enemy fifty feet across the yard, where it crashed into the fence.

  As Alan ap
proached, another fire monster jumped the north fence, directly behind him. His forehead wrinkled and face lit up as I threw a froth of churning white past his right ear with a swoosh. Ten feet behind him, it collided with an incoming fireball.

  I grabbed Alan’s arm and pulled him behind me, keeping my eyes on the elemental as I did so. Another fireball streaked toward me, crackling with energy. With no time to throw, I swatted the incoming projectile out of the air into the sandy ground, using a newly summoned frost ball like a makeshift ping-pong paddle. I winced as the impact shuddered down my arm, destroyed the frost, and singed my hand. I shook my injured paw frantically, then slipped it inside my jacket and rubbed it against the ice of my chest.

  By now, the raging snow was taking its toll on the elemental. It steamed and guttered like a candle in the wind as the sting of thousands of snowflakes took their cumulative toll. It held up an arm to protect its face, studying the storm, then turned tail and ran, hopping the fence into the neighbour’s yard, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. In the darkness, I could see the orange glow emanating from it, just above the stone barrier, as it headed west. Reaching the back of the neighbouring yard, it joined its comrades, who were now fleeing as well, making for the nearby hills over the uneven ground.

  The green spectre floated after them, calling down lightning, mopping up, while the smouldering oak tree splashed itself with water from the nearly drained pool, extinguishing the small fires that burned along its branches. The battle appeared to be won, for now. It was time to go.

  I swept away black ash flakes, residue of the burnt outer shell of my winter jacket, which was now mottled with scorch marks where I’d been struck, repeatedly. Light-headed, I stumbled and felt Alan grab my arm to support me. Steadying myself, I gave him a pat on the shoulder, letting him know I was okay.

  “Holy shit,” Alan said, his voice low. “That was badass.” He swung his arm like he was serving a tennis ball. “Booyah. Here comes the smackdown.”

  “What are you doing here, Alan? It’s not safe.”

  The teen shrugged. “I figured you might need help.”

  “Thanks, but you could have been killed,” I said. Seeing his hurt expression, I added, “Look, I appreciate it, but if that fireball hit you—”

  “Doesn’t matter, man,” Alan said, giving me a steely look. “I’m not backing down again.”

  I sighed and gestured toward the sidewalk that led to the front of the house in an after you motion. “Let’s talk about it later.”

  The trauma of the desert robbery had clearly left wounds on the teen surfer’s psyche that were making him reckless. I just hoped that coming to help me would be enough to convince him he wasn’t the coward he apparently feared himself to be. I resolved to have an extended conversation with him, to do whatever I could to quell those doubts, but now wasn’t the time.

  Strange how everyone reacts to stressful circumstances differently, I thought.

  Things seemed to roll off his best friend’s back like water off a duck, whereas Alan reacted with brooding and self-doubt. Perhaps that was why while both surfed, Alan did so competitively and Caleb only recreationally. The former felt a need to prove his worth, while the latter did not.

  We shuffled for the front of the house over a thin layer of fresh snowfall, which continued to accumulate. Alan glanced to the left where, in the distance, lightning continued to flash and thunder to rumble. “What’s going on, dude? An alien invasion?”

  “Let’s talk about that later, too,” I said as we rounded the corner of the burning house and hobbled down the sidewalk to the front of the garage. We stumbled into Lucy coming our way as we passed through the gate leading to the driveway.

  “Wilhelm and Bear?” Lucy asked, her face pained. I shook my head, unable to look her in the eye. A hand flew to her mouth and she looked like she might be sick. I grabbed her elbow and guided her toward the van, which sat idling in the street, pointed north.

  Brad cut the engine to the van and got out as we neared. Lilith and Caleb hopped out of the side doors moments later and came around the van to join us, shivering and rubbing their hands, their faces masks of concern. As we conferred, the snowfall increased in intensity and the temperature continued to drop. Even squinting, I couldn’t see well farther than a few hundred feet down the street.

  “Look, I… I’ve got…,” I said, looking down. I paused, overwhelmed, thinking of last night’s adventure. How could the world change so fast and so horribly, with no warning? How could the world simply go on after such a tragedy, as if nothing much had happened? How could I? “Wil, Bear…they didn’t make it.”

  With halting words, I told them what had happened. How I was too late. That no one could have survived. I left nothing out, including the mob of fire elementals, the ambulatory oak tree, and the emerald green spectre that had battled them. Alan nodded vigorous confirmation of the more fantastical parts of my tale. I’m not sure they really heard much after the first part. Lilith burst into tears, burying her face in Alan’s shirt. His lips quivered as well, but he held it together. Caleb stared into space, blinking rapidly. Brad and Lucy hung their heads, holding back tears.

  “Is this real?” Caleb asked, looking at Alan. “Seriously. I’m dreaming or high, right? Seriously.”

  “Yeah, it’s real,” Alan said softly as he comforted Lilith. “I saw it, dude. Happened just like he said.”

  “I’m not sure I’d believe it if I didn’t see you take down that thing right in front of us,” Brad said, looking at the scorched earth where the elemental’s husk still lay, looking more like a hunk of volcanic rock than a molten fire monster. “A freaking walking tree? What the hell is happening?” He looked around as he said the last, asking no one and everyone at once.

  “That poor dude,” Caleb sighed, shaking his head. “That’s harsh…that’s so totally harsh.”

  I looked up as Scott’s Mustang roared down the street and screeched to a halt next to the van. He jumped out and ran over. Scott studied the flaming house, then looked at me. His thick-rimmed eyeglasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back into place. “Where’s Wilhelm?”

  I shook my head. “I heard him shouting inside. I ran around back to try to find a way in,” I said, looking down. “I tried…but the fire…”

  Scott’s head swivelled to regard the burning house with a pained expression on his face. He rubbed his chin a moment, then lunged forward, as if to intending to enter. Brad jumped in front of him and held the taller man back. Alan rushed to help as his older brother’s Nikes slid along the concrete.

  “It’s too late, man,” Brad said, his voice cracking. “It’s too late. Come on, man. It’s too late.”

  Scott’s struggles weakened at the younger man’s words. He turned away and fell to one knee, his face pale and drawn. Lucy stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. He appeared not to notice but stood up again after a few moments. In the distance, sirens could be heard, growing louder by the second. His voice hoarse, Scott said, “Must be the ambulance I called.”

  “Or fire trucks,” Caleb said. “Dude across the street called nine-one-one.”

  Scott turned away, wiping his eyes. “We need to get you out of here, Shivurr. This place is lousy with people and going to get worse.” He looked south toward his house. “We can’t go back to my place. More security agents may show up. I know a place we can hide out.” He looked around at the others. “You should come along.”

  “What about the police?” Lucy asked. “Won’t they want to talk to us?”

  “Maybe, but what can you tell them? We need time to get our stories straight. Let the neighbours tell them what they saw first. Besides, what are you going to say? ‘Well, Officer, fire-throwing monsters lit the house on fire.’ They’ll think you’re nuts or making it up. Besides, it may not be safe here. More of those fire fuckers may be around.”

  “Yeah, but the police will protect us,” Lilith said.

  “The police can’t protect you,” Scott said, s
cowling. “Bullets don’t seem to do much to them. Trust me, I know.”

  “I don’t want to get in trouble,” Lilith said, drying her eyes.

  “You won’t. You were just nearby. Doesn’t mean you have to stay. Besides, if they talk to us later, we just tell the truth. We were scared shitless and bugged out.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Look, we don’t have time to argue.” When they failed to immediately respond, he sighed. “All right, stay here, but Shivurr and I have got to go. Anybody got a pen and paper?” He held out his hands as, down the street, an ambulance pulled up in front of his house, lights flashing.

  “I do,” Lucy said, rummaging around in her purse. “Here you go.”

  “One sec,” he said as he fiddled with his car keys. “Here’s the key to my house. It’s the one down there where the ambulance is, with the burned-out car in the driveway. After the cops and fire trucks get here, you can go there.”

  Scott took the pen and paper. He held the pad against the side of the van, writing furiously, then ripped off the page and handed it to Lucy. “Here, this is my number. If you don’t make it back to my place, call and leave a message telling us where you are.”

  Scott walked toward his car, motioning me to follow.

  “Why wouldn’t we make it?” Lucy asked, brow furrowed.

  “I don’t know. Maybe the cops will take you in or something,” Scott replied, opening the driver’s-side door. “I’ll call once we’re safe, so listen for my voice on the machine. Only pick up if it’s me, though.”

  “Take us in?” Lilith said in a questioning tone. “But like you said, we didn’t do anything.”

  Scott shrugged. “You never know. Depends on the cops.” He held the door open so I could climb into the back seat. Seeing her look of consternation, after a moment he added, “Don’t worry. If they do, leave me a message and I’ll bail you out or whatever. Don’t sweat it. They’ll probably just want to talk to you.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Caleb said. He looked at Scott apprehensively. “If that’s okay. I don’t like cops.”

 

‹ Prev